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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27876121">heart of the garden</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stygius/pseuds/stygius'>stygius</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hades (Video Game 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, Multi, Poetry, Polyamory, endgame spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:40:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27876121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stygius/pseuds/stygius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Were I called to speak of what is mine,<br/>know that I would speak of gardens.<br/>Of beautiful flowers yearning for the sun,<br/>and weeds that must be pulled to save the crop.<br/>Know that I would speak of patience,<br/>of resilience and support; <br/>know that I would speak of love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hades/Nyx/Persephone (Hades Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>heart of the garden</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallofIllusion/gifts">toushindai (WallofIllusion)</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Were I called to speak of what is mine,</p>
<p>know that I would speak of gardens.</p>
<p>Of beautiful flowers yearning for the sun,</p>
<p>and weeds that must be pulled to save the crop.</p>
<p>Know that I would speak of patience,</p>
<p>of resilience and support;</p>
<p>know that I would speak of love.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Were I called to speak of myself. Then — </p>
<p>What is a mere gardener to say?</p>
<p>There is such a thing as too much yearning</p>
<p>and not enough growth.</p>
<p>The grass is not always greener on the other side,</p>
<p>but still I thought, there must be a third place,</p>
<p>built on richer soil for struggling plants to heal,</p>
<p>bathed in brighter light for sprouts to reach for, </p>
<p>blessed by sweeter rain for leaves to drink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Centuries have come and passed me by,</p>
<p>with sweat on my brow, dirt under my nails, </p>
<p>and still I forget.</p>
<p>Gardens do not thrive on soil alone.</p>
<p>The seeds take time and they take root,</p>
<p>and roots entwine in secret below the earth.</p>
<p>They press against each other in hunger,</p>
<p>then lace their fingers tight in kind accord.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Were I called to speak of us — </p>
<p>of fire, quick to anger, provider of warmth;</p>
<p>of darkness, primordial mantle of protection;</p>
<p>of the garden that I planted, left to die — </p>
<p>then I have no more words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The warmth that I could not find in sunlight,</p>
<p>let me seek it in the fiery depths,</p>
<p>in the blackest night where truths are not seen</p>
<p>but felt and known by touch alone,</p>
<p>like roots together in kindness, in patience, in love.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>been a hot minute since I wrote poetry, but here we are. polyamory runs in the family, kids, and you can't convince me otherwise.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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